


Nornsdottir

by noonesson



Series: The Rose of Asgard [1]
Category: Thor (Movies)
Genre: Drabble Collection, F/F, F/M, Genderfluid Character, Lady Loki, Sibling Incest, Trans Loki (Marvel), but not....really? you could easily read this with the ship goggles off if you'd like, kind of?, rose of versailles AU
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-19
Updated: 2018-09-19
Packaged: 2019-07-14 07:04:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16035410
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/noonesson/pseuds/noonesson
Summary: The Allfather had two children, no daughters, but one son. Loki knew this. She only hoped that one day, Thor would understand this much as well.





	Nornsdottir

“Why do you turn yourself into a woman?”

Loki’s eyes flicked away from the warriors and their sparring, and towards her brother. Golden hair that glittered far more finely than any of Idunn’s apples stuck messily across broad, bronze shoulders. Even when soaked with sweat and caked with mud, Thor’s every angle, every feature, seemed to burn bright. A giant among men.

It never failed to take Loki’s breath away. For that, she wished she could steal _Thor’s_ breath away. Permanently.

“I don’t turn myself into anything,” Loki said sharply. “I am what I choose to be, nothing more, and nothing less.”

Thor’s eyebrows furrowed in thought. “You are a shrewd creature, Loki, but I see no reward in this venture.”

Loki’s eyes narrowed as she leaned against a cool marble column.  _What are you playing at, brother mine?_  Loki wondered, openly glaring at Thor. Her brother met her gaze readily. A lesser man would say that Thor’s eyes betrayed honest and vulnerable intent, but Loki  knew better. As honorable as Thor was, the oaf was not as simple-minded as Loki sometimes tried to convinced herself. In truth, Thor had long ago learnt that loud, heart-bared veracity would never move Loki. There were steps to be taken. A dance to be danced. And then, only then, Loki would speak openly, honestly.

Or at least, that is what Thor believed. Loki had no qualms on letting that misunderstanding thrive.

“Perhaps the venture is the reward.” Loki offered. “Must you assume that there is a scheme underlying all my comport?”

Thor smirked. “To not do so would be of great insult to you,  _sister._ ”

Loki hummed in agreement, but inwardly, her heart twisted cruelly.  _Sister,_ Thor had japed, as if Loki’s form was a jest. Her brother meant no harm, she knew-- Loki’s pranks and schemes often featured her shapeshifting into one thing or another. But surely Thor must  _understand._ This form was no jape, no playing piece in some cosmic game. This form was Loki, when she wanted it to be. This form was safe.

Venom began to bubble on her tongue. 

“Fair enough,” Loki conceded, baring her pale throat. “But I can assure you, brother, that I take this shape with as little thought as you do yours.”

A sudden quiet descended upon the hall, filled with only the distant shouts of men and the clanging echo of their swords. The mirth in Thor’s eyes was blown out in an instant, and her brow weary with the burden of a crown the Norns destined her for.  For a moment, Loki felt a giddy panic bubble within her. It was not often she could corner Thor like this, make her face the womanhood hidden beneath the name of Odinson. 

Because it wasn’t fair. It was never fair. The crown prince of Asgard, the great golden son of the Aesir, was a woman named man from birth. Not like Sif, who spent all her life proving to be as good as any man. Thor simply...was. A great warrior, a hero to her men. There was no better prince than Thor. No better son. 

“I did not approach you with ill intentions, Loki,” Thor said carefully. “It is just-- it has been weeks that you have remained in this state.”

“And you seven centuries in yours,” Loki snapped. She pushed away from her casual lean and took a deliberate step towards Thor. “As I said a mere moment past, there is no scheme and no mischief. There is only  _me.”_

Thor stared at her for but a moment, before stretching out herself to her full height. The brawn of her shoulders towered over half the men in the palace, Loki knew. It was both vexing and impressive. 

“Loki, I only ask because there are whispers of your comport, and of your own honor. You know how it goes with gossip-- a passing thought  becomes a truth spoken from the mouths of the Norns.” Calloused fingers wound themselves around Loki’s throat-- a gesture that no doubt brought fear to many of the Aesir’s foes, but now only spoke of love.

Loki stared at Thor for a long moment. Then snorted. Then laughed. She laughed, and laughed, until breath was but a wheeze upon her lips and her belly cramped with dull ache. Oh Thor, with her typical, patronizing horse shit.

She took another step towards Thor, and bowed exaggeratedly. 

 “’Oh, how strange the golden Prince is, but how lovely.  _How brave.’_ _”_ Loki began, a light lilt sweetening her words. “’Thor, Odinson. Nornsdottir. The one and only future king of Asgard, she who fell a thousand men at her left side, and twenty thousand at her right!’”

Thor stood as still as stone, arms crossed across her barrel chest. Her expression was blank, but in that careful manner, and her eyes were schooled solely on Loki.

Light steps turned into twirls, and Loki was draped across her brother’s back, her thin lips pressed against her ear. “Thor, a worthy son and man despite visages of womanhood. So unlike the  _ergi_ second-born, who  _chose_ to study woman’s magic, and  _chose_ to wear a woman’s form.”

Her hands began to shake, suddenly slick with sweat. Her grasp began to slip, and so her nails dug deeply into skin. Thor hissed in pain.

“Do you think myself deaf and dull, dear brother?” Loki whispered. “I cannot escape the echoes of your praise, nor the whispers of my shame.”

There was long, suffering pause. Thor’s gaze remained fixed onto the courtyard before her. The sun was almost set, its last light streaming through pillars and cutting dark shadows across the sharp cuts of Thor’s cheeks. In the arena below, young warriors laughed and hollered as they raced towards the baths, picking up their weapons and leaving the sandy dune an empty and darkening dome.

“Loki, you have never been a shame upon our house,” Thor said, slowly.

Loki snorted.

Thor hummed in agreement. “Well, not in this way,” she amended. “I have ever loved you as my brother, in both arms and in blood. And I will continue to do so.” A hand slipped slowly across the princess’s arm, fingers clasping around her wrist carefully. “And I promise you this, Loki, I will also love you and honor you as my sister in arms and my sister in blood.”

Loki felt her throat clench, her heart pound as Thor gently lifted her hand, and gently brushed her lips against her sister’s bony wrist.  

"Anyone would who dares laugh at the princess of Asgard will answer to me, and me alone.”

The words escaped her lips so easily, so honestly. 

Loki did not dignify that with a response. In a blink of an eye, she vanished, leaving Thor alone in the shadows of a setting sun. 

The Allfather had two children, no daughters, but one son. Loki knew this. She only hoped that one day, Thor would understand this much as well.

**Author's Note:**

> I am kind of....plotting an actual story regarding this AU, but until then, here, have a drabble dump.


End file.
